It is astonishing that a hill-range of such minor elevation should clothe itself in attributes of such really mountainous dignity. From the end of the Carnanes we drop cautiously to the sea at Fleswick Bay, whence those who are weary of much up-and-down may soon make their way to Port Erin or Port St. Mary. Those, on the contrary, who are still eager for the hills may yet, if they like, make another pretty climb by scrambling up and over Bradda Head.
Port Erin and Port St. Mary, though only a mile apart, are almost as different from one another—though, of course, in a different way—as are Lynton and Lynmouth, in Devonshire, or any other famous topographical twins. Those who prefer a watering-place that is almost wholly watering-place, and not yet spoilt by extravagant building (though the hands that direct its destinies had better call a halt); who are content to be included in a definite bay that is bounded by definite cliffs; and who are willing to look westward over unlimited space, in which the sun sinks magnificently in his "ocean-bath," will get what they like at Port Erin. Those, on the other hand, who like to face eastward, and to vary the monotony of the seascape by distant lines of low coast; who dislike to be cooped in a narrow space; and who ask the stronger local colour of a busy little port, will probably turn to Port St. Mary. Stat suus cuique honor: each may be praised without dispraising its rival; though the writer, were he asked, would find little difficulty in giving his casting vote between the two. In any case it is intolerable that the little Manx railway, when rebuilding Port St. Mary Station, should have built so conspicuous an erection in such hideous red-brick. They have done the same at Douglas and Peel. When will builders come to realize that red-brick of all complexions is wholly out of place in a land of grey and green?
Castletown, till 1862, was officially the capital of Man, and is still far the least "developed" of all its four principal towns. It is simply, in fact, a small, quiet country town, even less spoilt for visitors than the inland parts of Peel; though Peel, of course, exhibits, in its peerless St. Patrick's Isle, features of picturesqueness that we shall seek for in Castletown in vain. Castletown, no doubt, would be big and ugly if it could; and by making golf-links at Derby Haven it has certainly given hostages to fortune. After all, there is nothing to see in the place save Castle Rushen, which is principally keep, with a narrow ward, and an enceinte wall and ditch that surround the whole. So narrow a ward, and a keep so disproportionately big, can be matched perhaps only at Middleham, in Yorkshire—once the home of the "King-Maker"—where the keep is late Norman, and the enceinte fourteenth century. At Castletown, it is asserted, no part of the existing structure dates back earlier than the fourteenth, or at earliest the thirteenth, century; though the castle itself is said to have been founded—the account is perhaps mythical—by King Guthred the Dane in 947. The keep, moreover, though so-called in all the guide-books, is not really a keep at all—not a single solid tower, that is, in the sense of Middleham Castle, or, to take more familiar instances, in the sense of Rochester, Dover, or London. On the contrary it is really a minute inner ward surrounded by an enceinte of quite disproportionate height. Formerly, under the rule of the house of Stanley, it served, like the Tower and Windsor Castle, for castle and palace alike; after that the place was a prison; and now it is dismantled, save for a handful of rooms, some of which shelter the Manx Museum. Most of the apartments are gloomy enough, and one is glad to escape from them back into the sunlight: the great slabs of slate, however, that serve for floor or ceiling—some of them measure 12 feet in length—are surely without parallel elsewhere. The drawing-room, which is the biggest room in the castle, has now an interesting collection of Manx antiquities—e.g., old rushlight-holders, and the ancient Bishop's mace; but the object that strikes one most with amazement is the splendid skeleton of an Irish elk—an animal, of course, that has long since been extinct—which was found some sixteen years ago in a marl-pit near St. John's. This is said to be complete, and measures about 10 feet across the antlers—sufficient indication of its general gigantic size.
The Isle of Man, as belonging to the Stanleys, was pertinaciously Royalist in the great Civil War; and hither retired James, the seventh Earl of Derby, on July 30, 1644, after the crushing defeat at Marston Moor on the previous July 2 had finally shattered the cause of the King in the North. Here he resided with his family in Castle Rushen for the next six years; and well would it have been for him had he resided here till the end. On June 16, 1650, however, Charles II. landed in the Firth of Cromarty to commence the new campaign that was destined to end so disastrously at Worcester; and in the August of the following year Derby, in his turn, set foot again on English soil at Wyre Water, in Lancashire, having been selected by Charles in the previous year to command the Royalist levies out of Lancashire and Cheshire. On sailing for this expedition, from which he was fated never to return, he left his wife behind him at Castle Rushen, under the care of William Christian, who commanded the insular forces. The Countess was the famous Charlotte de la Trémoille, daughter of Claude de la Trémoille, Duc de Thouars, and was lineally descended, on her mother's side, from the great Dutch patriot, William the Silent. Already, in the course of the great Civil War, she had distinguished herself by the defence of Lathom House, in Lancashire, during the siege of which she had "rejected with scorn all proposals for surrender, declaring that she and her children would fire the castle and perish in the flames rather than yield." The fortunes of her husband need not now be further followed, save briefly to record that he was beheaded by the Parliament at Bolton on October 15, 1651, having been captured near Nantwich whilst trying to make his escape alone after the defeat at Worcester. The unfortunate Countess, on hearing of his arrest, at once despatched overtures to England proposing the surrender of the island in the hope of saving his life. Whether the proposal was scouted, or arrived too late, the Earl, we have seen, was put to death; and it is said that the first intimation that his unhappy wife received of it was a curt and brutal sentence (though it may not have been meant as such)—"the late Earl of Derby"—in a letter from Colonel Duckenfield that was delivered to her on October 29, calling on her to surrender Castle Rushen.
PEEL HARBOUR AND CASTLE.
This is the most picturesque of the Manx towns and its Castle and Cathedral on St. Patrick's Isle are extremely interesting buildings.
The Parliamentary troops had landed on the island two days previously, it is practically certain—though the point has been disputed—by the treachery of William Christian. The distracted Countess was apparently at first for holding out, but finally surrendered on November 3. She ultimately died at Knowsley, in 1664, and was buried near her husband in the parish church of Ormskirk. She had lived just long enough, however, to see summary vengeance executed on the traitor by her son, the eighth Earl. Christian, of course, was included in the general Act of Indemnity that alone rendered tolerable the return of Charles to England in 1660. Derby, however, was lord in Man, and claimed to exercise there peculiar sovereign powers in his own right. Christian was arrested, but refused to plead, and could not thus technically be brought to trial. "The Governor requested the deemsters and the House of Keys to inform him what the laws of the island provided should be done in the case of a prisoner refusing to plead. The reply was that the life and property of the recusant were at the absolute disposal of the lord of the island." In England the old remedy in such a case was pressing to death (the peine forte et dure), but the goods of the prisoner were not forfeited. It is said to have been for this very reason (that his property might descend to his heir), that Walter Calverley refused to plead when indicted at York for the murder of his children in 1605. On December 29 the deemster pronounced sentence of death on Christian, and four days later he was shot at Hango Hill on the seashore on the way to Derby Haven, and, roughly, a mile to the east of Castle Rushen. The spot is almost exactly opposite King William's College, and is marked by the slight ruins of a blockhouse that was built by the seventh Earl, and by the site of an ancient burial-ground. He was buried at Malew Church, as recorded in the parish register—the last two sentences in terrible opposition: "Mr. William Christian of Ronaldsway, late Receiver, was shot to death at Hangoe Hill, on January 2. He died most penitently and most courageously, made a good end, prayed earnestly, made an excellent speech, and the next day was buried in the chancel of Malew." The character of William Christian has been very variously estimated, but the islanders regarded him as a patriot martyr, who died for defending certain of their rights against the encroachments of the reigning house. "Baase Illiam Dhone" (The Death of Brown-haired William) "dwells on the retribution that befell the families of those who were responsible for his execution." On the other hand, it seems certain that Christian was accused in 1658 of having embezzled extensive revenues of the then sequestrated bishopric; and whether guilty of this or not—he was never brought to trial—he certainly fled to England, and this presupposes his guilt. Popular judgment and critical history thus often fall at loggerheads; Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, who was beheaded at Pontefract in 1322, was honoured after his death almost as though a saint—Leland, writing in the time of Henry VIII., speaks of "the Hil, where the goode Duke of Lancastre was beheddid"—whilst the Dictionary of National Biography can find nothing better to say of him than that "despite his tragic end, it is difficult to say anything favourable of Thomas of Lancaster."